


Life Itself

by nomisupernova



Series: An Arrow to the Heart [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Dave has a massive crush back, Emotional Manipulation Magic, F/F, Fighting, Humanstuck, Karkat has a massive crush on Dave, Karkat tries to kick Cupids Ass and fails horribly, M/M, Magic-Users, Neither of them do anything about it because they're useless gays, Prequel, Self-Insert, Temporarily Unrequited Love, The Author Regrets Nothing, This is a prequel to Falling For U, Trans Dave Strider, background rosemary - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-05
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-06-22 05:13:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15574548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nomisupernova/pseuds/nomisupernova
Summary: Karkat Vantas is a barista at A Cup of Love and he gets a weird customer one day. Cupid, as he comes to learn his name is, uses emotional manipulation magic for the good of people's love lives. Karkat, however, doesn't know this and he tries to fight a god. Including: Magic use, threats of violence, a fight scene, one pair of lesbians kissing, and hugging.Written live for the Karkat Thirst server, of which I'm the Mod!





	Life Itself

**Author's Note:**

  * For [apocalypticTaco](https://archiveofourown.org/users/apocalypticTaco/gifts), [Java_bean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Java_bean/gifts), [ireallyloveicecream](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ireallyloveicecream/gifts), [weaksauce](https://archiveofourown.org/users/weaksauce/gifts), [alkalinePessimist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alkalinePessimist/gifts), [commaAbuser](https://archiveofourown.org/users/commaAbuser/gifts), [cryptichedonist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/cryptichedonist/gifts), [carnivorousBelvedere](https://archiveofourown.org/users/carnivorousBelvedere/gifts), [YourKnightOfRage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/YourKnightOfRage/gifts), [notwest](https://archiveofourown.org/users/notwest/gifts), [awkwardFawn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/awkwardFawn/gifts).



> For the members of the Karkat Thirst server, who are my dearest friends and always support me no matter what I do. Thank you all so much for being supportive and kind while I work on this series.
> 
> This fic takes its name from the song _Life Itself_ by Glass Animals which you can listen to [here.](https://open.spotify.com/track/32zkKx35Et6A515oZKxDkD?si=ho_kiZo1T9W6Oyj6zP3-kA)

It was a normal day like any other, or at least it started like one. Work was boring as always, nothing particularly interesting was going on at the very least. Dave came in for his morning coffee as he always did: mint mocha frappe, two pumps of mint, three pumps of mocha, extra creamer, two sugars. It was business as usual until about three in the afternoon, just before the end of your shift. That’s right around when you met the person who ruined your life.

* * *

 

The doorbell jingles with the effort of the front door opening, you should really recommend that the owners of _A Cup Of Love_ replace the damn thing already. There's much more high-tech doors that set off a beeper by the counter instead of an old wooden one with a bell on it like they have. And really, this is 2015, everyone should be at least _trying_ to have new tech. Your eyes are drawn, somehow, to the customer who comes in. You don't usually look up at the customers until they're in front of you. It’s not really policy, but you just don't stare at people while they do their thing.

At first glance, you're not quite sure what to think, all you know is that you can't tear your eyes away from him. He's got long brown hair, braided back behind his head in an intricate series of loops with little flowers tucked into them. Your _first_ thought once you stop being so shocked is that he's a fae. It’s something you’ve been warned to stay away from by everyone with a fucking brain. But as you watch him take his seat and kick his legs up off the ground and fold them under him, you quirk your eyebrow up. Fae don't usually carry themselves so- so _casually,_ they typically try to impress everyone around them. Maybe he's just a really eccentric guy with a super weird haircut.

"Yo, homie, somethin' wrong with my face?" He asks and you realize that you're staring at his face and you have been for a while. You shake your head and feel your face heat up. He cracks into a grin, "Oh you'll be a fun one for someone, I'm sure."

"What the fu-" You pause and cough, you're _not_ supposed to swear on the job, especially not during lunch rush. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He stands and walks over toward you, leaving behind a laptop case and a pile of what looks like Skittles at the table. You’ve seen weirder things being eaten by people in here so you try not to judge that too harshly. "You'll see in a few years, babe. Now, can you get me somethin' t'drink? I'm dyin' over here, dude."

"You have to order first."

"Ugh _fiiiine._ Extra large Mocha Caramel latte, five sugars, extra extra creamer." He orders the second sweetest drink you've served all day. But this one is disgustingly sweeter than the other one you made. You're really not supposed to be arguing with the customers but something about this guy is setting you off.

“What is it with you free-spirit types and your nasty syrup coffee? It’s all natural until you need your fix and then it’s all sugar, chocolate, and fakey-fake additives from there, am I right?” You roll your eyes and jot the order down on the little pad of paper you keep in your work apron so you don’t forget anyone’s order. “What’s the name, Starshine? Sunbeam? Moon Child? Hmm?”

“Hah. Sassy, ain’t ya? Y’know, I know [someone](https://archiveofourown.org/users/awkwardFawn/pseuds/awkwardFawn) just like ya and _trust me,_ he only gets away with that shit ‘cuz I like ‘im. I ain’t dealin’ with this from someone else.” He leans across the counter, perfectly looped braids falling down and around his face with the movement. “You’d best be takin’ that and packin’ that shit right back the fuck up cuz I won’t be havin’ it, mother fucker.”

You lean back slightly, _shit,_ you probably just angered what seems even more like a fae now. And angry fae are _not_ to be trifled with, especially when you’re the reason they’re all pissed off in the first place. You’d do best to just carry about it like normal and cool the fuck down before you end up getting yourself killed.

“The name’s Kishi, K-I-S-H-I. Some folk call me Cupid but I dunno ‘bout all that. I’m just doin’ my job that I got stiffed with. Though I ain’t gonna lie, matchmaking is _preeeetty_ goddamn fun.” He says, as if you’re supposed to fucking understand what any of that means.

"What, are you like, some kind of love guru?" You ask as you pull out the foam cup to make his coffee in. If he is, it explains the heart-shaped logo on the t-shirt he's wearing. It's all hollowed out on one side and it's a really eye bleeding bright pink. But hey, who are you to judge someone else’s fashion sense? You’re a sweater and sweatpants kind of guy yourself so you really have no room to talk.

"Eh… somethin' like that, yeah. I prefer the term 'Knight of Heart' but my friends say that's fuckin' ridiculous and just about the dumbest shit they ever heard. Well I think that they're fuckin _WRONG_ cuz you know what? It’s. Just. Fucking. Dandy. To. Me." He thumps his fist on the counter, accentuating his words and getting a bit louder. He takes a deep breath and sighs quickly, backpedaling immediately. “It’s- ugh, it’s fuckin’ fine, just- coffee. I want my coffee. Y’all bring that shit to the table, right?”

“Yes but-” He gives you no time to _actually_ answer before he cuts you off.

“Oh rad! Aight, bring that shit to me, I gotta work. Next client should be here in an hour so Imma just chill ‘til she shows up. Oh and call me Cupid. I don’t like people sayin’ my name if they ain’t my friend. You feel me?” He looks around quickly and his eyes land on Dave for a second, who is sitting with his girlfriend and his sister. “Oooh, he’s cute. Single?”

“No, he has a girlfriend, _Cupid.”_ You answer quickly, with a surprising amount of venom and protective energy. Yeah fucking _right._ As if Dave would go for the slightly longer-haired version of himself. They’re _disgustingly_ similar, at least from what you’ve seen so far, down to the way they speak even. It’s fucking unnerving if you’re being honest with yourself and you are.

Cupid clicks his tongue, “Oh jeez, what a shame. A’ight, welp! I’ll be over there. Here’s ya cash, keep the change, yer gonna need it, I’m sure.” He slaps a fifty on the counter and you can barely keep your fucking eyes in their sockets. Jesus _CHRIST,_ the coffee is _maybe_ five bucks, that’s a forty-five dollar tip. Maybe this guy isn’t so bad and he’s just really, really misunderstood.

What a laughable though, in hindsight.

He saunters off to sit back at his table, grabbing a handful of Skittles and tossing them into his mouth as he crosses his legs underneath of him. His hand comes up to brush his braids back behind his ear and you nearly double-take as it seems to move back behind and wrap itself around the other, thicker braid in the back.

"Behave, dammit. Can't be havin' you doin' whatever the fuck ya want." He seems to mumble to his hair, like its a fucking person that can actually respond to him. The one on the right side of his head falls forward and you watch his face twist from the peaceful, serene look he has into an annoyed scowl.

He reaches into his hair and pulls out a pin, decorated with a blue flower on the end. He uses it to secure the braid in place at the base of his head. "SIT. STILL."

You decide that this person is a fucking fae, zero fucking doubt in your mind and you're staying as far away as possible. He’s using fucking _magic_ in front of you, there’s no WAY he isn’t. You quickly make his coffee, pumping the mocha mix into the cup. Creamer goes in and coffee gets poured over it, you mix the sickeningly pale-coloured coffee and drop ten whole cubes of sugar in.

Once it's all stirred up, you peel a sticker with the company's logo on it and stick it on the side of the drink. You carry it over to him quickly, if you can get him served and out of here after his client leaves then you can get back to your life and forget about him.

"Thanks darlin'," he mutters to you and gets back to tapping at his keyboard angrily, pulling the cup closer to him. He sips at it some, eyes trained to the screen. It’s making you slightly curious what he’s up to but you don’t even get a chance to ask. As if he’s a fucking mind-reader, he says in the most accusatory tone, “I’m _writing_ something. I write fanfiction for fun, that cool with you, _dude?_ Or are you one of those judgmental ‘it’s not _real_ writing’ types?”

You take a deep breath, he’s just as annoyed with you as you are with him. He’s reacting in a way he’s probably used to having to react, it’s _fine,_ Karkat. It’s not a personal affront to you specifically, you’re just in his space when you shouldn’t be. “I wasn’t going to judge you, I was just f- just _curious_ what had your attention and what had you looking like someone told you that your dog died.”

“First off, I fucking _love_ writin’ so don’t you be gettin’ no ideas. It’s just hard and takes a lotta my focus, shit’s frustratin’ as fuck. But I love it an’ I wouldn’t trade my writin’ skill for all the money in the world. Second, I ain’t even _got_ a dog so my _‘look’_ for that would be confusion, not frustration.” He stabs a finger in your direction, “Now, yer real pretty, but yer blockin’ the view. Kish got an eye and it needs to be wandering, y’know what I mean? Gotta keep these peepers on my potential clientele.”

“What, do you just chase people down and find out if they need your ‘love skills’ or something? That’s kind of f- _kind of creepy.”_ You _really_ want to swear at this guy, but you’re still on the clock. He’s weirding you out a LOT. Who the fuck just sits around and checks people out to see who needs love advice? It’s fucking _weird_ and you don’t like it. And if he thinks he’s going to do that shit here then he’s dead fucking wrong. Especially not when so many people you care about are here. Though, to be honest, those “people” are mostly just Dave.

He sighs, pulling a glasses case out of the bag next to him. He unfolds it, pulls them out, and slides the black rectangular frames back. He rests them on his nose and continues speaking. “If you’re gonna ask me so many fuckin’ questions, I at _least_ get to ask you some. What’s your name anyway, chickpea? It’d be nice to call ya what you _actually_ are seeing as I got a feelin’ imma be seein’ a lot more of ya.”

“Oh _fuck_ no, I’m not telling you.” You accidentally swore but you don’t care, fae don’t get your names. No fucking way.

“You’re wearing a damn nametag, ‘Karkat,’ I was just tryin’ to be polite.” Cupid rolls his eyes and snickers at you, typing a little quicker. He hits enter and sits back, scrolling along with the mouse he has plugged into his laptop. He sips his coffee some more and looks over at you again, “Chill out, shit’s gonna be lit as fuck if you learn to relax a little bit, babe.. An’ if ya don’t, I’m gonna give you somethin’ to be all fuckin’ pissed off about.”

“It’s fine, I can cool it.” You put your hands up in surrender and he scowls at you, rolling his eyes. You are going to be fae food if you don’t stay away, that’s just logical at this point. But you’re drawn to him and it’s going to be the death of you.

“Get a move on, Karkat. Yer pissin’ me off and ain’t nobody that does that gettin’ away without an earful or worse.” He fucking _winks_ at you and your blood runs cold. What the _fuck_ is he implying? Is he gonna beat the shit out of you or something _much_ worse?

You quickly scamper off, not interested in being the victim to the fate of a fae. Those fuckers can be as harmless as fucking with your hair or they can be as dangerous as literally murdering people. You’re not too keen on finding out what kind of fae this “Cupid” is. You busy yourself back at the counter, jotting down orders and filling them as the hour passes.

For the first ten minutes, things seem fine. But the more inattentive you are on “Cupid,” the more he takes it upon himself to start making goo-goo eyes and kissy faces at everyone in the room. And you do mean _everyone_ , with zero discrimination for gender identity. Men, women, and even the one nonbinary person who comes here to hang out and work on their art, they have been since long before you started working here.

You can’t just fucking sit here and let this happen. You’re going to put a stop to this, even if it kills you.

* * *

 

It’s the start of your break and you take it in the front of the cafe instead of in the breakroom at the back of the building. This way, you can keep a better eye on the damage he’s causing. You’re… actually not sure why you’re so fixated on what he’s up to, it’s not usually _like you_ to give this much of a shit. But something about him is telling you that it’s important that you pursue this and put a stop to his shenanigans. You gather up your lunch, a simple raisin bagel with cream cheese and cinnamon and an iced tea, and take your seat, just three benches away from him.

Dave is still here with his girlfriend and he gives you a wave, which you return in kind. He’s being awfully nice to you but since you’re sort of friends with him, you’ll take it. Besides, you have kind of a crush on him anyway, not that you would _ever_ admit that to him. Well, you wanted to today but you were too much of a coward to actually do it, not that it matters too much.

He’d think you were just going after him anyway considering the fact that he only came out at the start of the month. 2015 has been a weird year and you never expected Dave of all people to come out during Pride month. Though, to be honest, you kind of had a feeling he wasn’t as straight as he heavily insisted on when you first met just over a year ago.

You sit down and fuck around on your phone for a few minutes, absentmindedly chewing on your bagel as you watch Cupid. He’s got some Discord server open, tapping away to a quickly moving chat. He bobs his head slightly and kicks his foot to the beat of some music, his eyes(which from this close, you can see are BRIGHT fucking green) lifting from the screen periodically to scan the room.

You strain your ears and listen for the music, only to realize that it’s some band that Dave actually listens to. Well, actually, his sister Rose listens to them and he just started after she showed them to him. You hum along to the lyrics as you watch him.

[ _We sip the wind through lips of lust_ ](https://open.spotify.com/track/0pQjNxCnSkcIOzdJtI8DBR?si=48iZnLCrRRm-bjse9ZxYrA)  
[ _And out it comes, warm wisps of love_ ](https://open.spotify.com/track/0pQjNxCnSkcIOzdJtI8DBR?si=48iZnLCrRRm-bjse9ZxYrA)  
[ _I smile because I want to_ _  
_ I smile because you want to](https://open.spotify.com/track/0pQjNxCnSkcIOzdJtI8DBR?si=48iZnLCrRRm-bjse9ZxYrA)

 

[ _Put the flowers in your hair_ _  
_ _Wrap your tendrils round my chest_ ](https://open.spotify.com/track/0pQjNxCnSkcIOzdJtI8DBR?si=48iZnLCrRRm-bjse9ZxYrA)

You didn't realize love gurus listened to that kind of music, but it kind of makes sense considering the fact that the sound and the lyrics are a little sensual. Either way, you find yourself tapping your toe to the beat and lose yourself in the groove of it. As you close your eyes and sway your head to the beat slightly, you hear footsteps fast approaching you. Your eyelids fly open and Cupid is standing in front of you, grassy green eyes locked to yours. Oh fuck.

 _"Enjoyin' my jams, sweetpea?"_ He says, voice low and harsh. A chill of cold, distilled fear runs up your spine but you can't tear your eyes away from him.

“Uh… I-” he cuts you off for the second time today.

“Listen here, short stuff, you’re awful cute but I can hear those little ideas ya got ‘bout me rattlin’ ‘round in that noggin’ a-yers. An’ I don’t take too kindly to what I’m hearin’. I ain’t no fae, I ain’t no _killer,_ and I _ain’t_ after yer boy over there.” He leans in as he whispers, voice getting raspier the more he speaks. Your eyes finally obey long enough look around for help. Perhaps someone will see him getting up in your face and stand up for you.

But as you seek assistance, you notice that absolutely nobody is looking at him. Not even Dave, who was just watching you moments before hand. You have this weird feeling that he’s got some sort of magic to make people feel indifferent to his presence.

“I’m here for Rose Lalonde, if you know her, you’d know that she’s got this girl she’s crushin’ on but she gonna need a bit of a push. That’s where I come in. See, Kat, I was hired by someone _real_ important, a god I guess you could say. It’s my job t’help people get their shit t’gether an’ if I don’t do it, ain’t nobody gonna do it for me. It’s my job to save these folk from themselves, don’t matter who or what gets in my way in the process. I will fucking _kill_ anyone who gets in the way of my work, y’got it?”

He reaches his hand up and grabs your chin. Your entire fucking body feels frozen in place and you can feel your skin crawling all over the place. ‘Not a killer’ he says, **yeah fucking RIGHT.**

“Now, what yer gonna do is take a fuckin’ seat, eat yer damn bagel, shut the fuck up, mind yer own, and watch a video on your phone until your break is over. Then, what yer gonna do after that is get the fuck back to work, GET ME?” He ends his angry ramble with a scowl, hair flailing wildly behind him with a sort of flowing energy. He digs his nails into your cheeks, just enough to sting but not to cut into your skin, “Now. _Obey.”_

As if by some force of magic, you feel your arms move of their own volition. They grab the bagel from the plate it’s sitting on and you shove it into your mouth. Cupid smiles, a grin that you perceived as smug moments ago. But now with what you’ve already seen he’s capable of, you’re taking it as the sick smile of a puppeteer watching his puppet dance on its strings.

"Good boy," he reaches forward and pats the top of your head, like you’re a dog that did a good trick. "Behave now or else Kish's gonna have t'make ya hurt an' I don't like hurtin' nobody if they can turn that shit right the fuck around."

He turns around, hair whipping back into place with the movement, "Now, I'm gonna get to work 'cuz it looks like the taller client is here early. What is it with tall, pretty lesbians an' bein' earlier t' stuff than they gotta be? It’s hella unfair."

You turn your head toward the door, swallowing your bagel as you do. It's your friend Kanaya, you've been going to school with her since you moved here three years ago. She's working on her degree in fashion design while you pursue your own in writing. She's really nice, very caring, and she's got the biggest, gayest crush on Rose fucking Lalonde. You silently wonder if Cupid is going to grab her up and drag her to his table. But as you watch, you see that Cupid totally ignores her other than to stare at her for a moment.

"What the fuck? I thought you said she was your client?" You ask, your arms instinctively lifting your phone in front of your face. You try your best to put it down but it's fucking useless. Your arms just straight up _are not_ listening to you and they won't move.

“Did I or did I _NOT_ tell you to shut the fuck up, pretty boy?” He squints his eyes at you and your mouth clamps shut quickly. _FUCK!_ “Ain’t the type of client you’re thinkin’ of. B‘sides, I’m waitin’ ‘round for her other half. Can’t do much when she’s all by herself now then, can I?” You suppose he has a point, what good is a matchmaker if there isn’t another half to the match?

He tilts his head at you and then he looks over at Kanaya, eyes traveling down her tall, curvy figure. You _know_ for a fact that Kanaya is as gay as they come so you wonder what the fuck he’s doing checking her out like that. You _want_ to open your mouth and ask but you literally _cannot,_ so you just sit and stare at the video playing on your phone instead, not paying any real amount of attention to it.

“Looks like yer break is over. Better git to it, she’s got coffee t’order, don’tchya think?” he asks, thick accent dropping syllables like it’s too hot to hold onto them. You roll your eyes and follow the feeling of your feet marching themselves up to the counter. The spell or whatever the _fuck_ it is on your mouth stops once you’re back behind the register and you smile cheerily at Kanaya.

“Hey Kanaya, welcome to _A Cup of Love,_ how can I help you?”

“Hello Karkat, I was not aware that you worked here.” She says, tilting her head, “but then, I do suppose I have not had the opportunity to stop in before.”

“Been working here for almost a year.” You shrug at her, “Order?”

“Right, sorry.” She pauses and thinks for a moment before saying the most fucking disgusting thing you could ever have hoped to hear out of her mouth. “An iced vanilla cappuccino.”

You take a deep breath and count to three before deciding that this is one coffee order you’re _not_ in the mood to insult since your last customer turned out to be some sort of magical being. Not that you think Kanaya is, but you’ve always had a weird feeling about Rose. And upsetting Kanaya will upset Rose and you don’t want her to come after you with the red hot fury of one thousand suns. Either way, you have to use a fuck ton of steamed milk on this shit and that’s damn fucking annoying.

But you’d rather not chew out your friend for ordering something she wants and chasing her off. That’ll just piss Cupid off even more and you’re trying to stay on his good side somewhat. So, despite your reluctance, you steam up the milk and make her the nasty coffee she wants, filling it with the regular amount of sugar and milk. You pass it over the counter to her and she pays you in kind, leaving you a decently large tip. Ten dollars for a six dollar coffee is more than you expected but she’s probably just being nice because you’re friends. You’ll just use that to your advantage and not insist she keep her money like you were originally trained to do. Besides, that shit is passive as fuck and you’re not about that life.

As she walks back into the cafe's sitting area, you see Dave look up at her and wave her over to his table. She perks up and heads over to sit with him, his older sister Roxy, and his current girlfriend. You don't remember catching her name but when it comes to Dave(no offense to him), he never stays with one person for very long. So you suppose it's not too big of a deal that you never got it since she'll be out as quick as she came into his life. Dave catches your eye and he gives you a little nod, his way of saying hello if he’s really busy like he is now. You nod back and he smiles at you, teeth showing and everything. _Shit,_ he’s really goddamn beautiful.

“Got a crush on ‘im?” Cupid asks and you nearly leap ten feet in the fucking air. “S’cute that y’think he don’t know that ya do. Or that he don’t feel the same way or somethin’, man. But whatever, y’all’ll figure it out, _m’sure.”_

Who in the ever loving fuck taught this giant fucking idiot to speak? This has got to be the _worst_ voice you’ve ever had the absolute displeasure of hearing. It’s like the South and Chicago had a bastard son and it took form in Cupid. It’s disgusting and you’re calling it out, you hiss angrily, “Why the _fuck_ are you talking like that?”

“Talkin’ like what?” He tilts his head in confusion, arching an eyebrow. “Oh! Y’mean my accent? S’real fucky, ain’t it? Dunno what kinda accent it is, really. S’like a mix a-South an’ Chicago an’ some other bullshit. I dunno, Cali shit too, I guess, seein’ as I say hella a lotta the time. I ain’t usually talk like this ‘less I’m _real_ annoyed an’ ya jus’ so happen t’piss me off somethin’ fierce.”

You roll your eyes and regret even asking, you should’ve known you’d get some stupid answer that’s not even really an answer. “Can’t you go sit and wait for Rose or whatever? Why the _fuck_ do you have to be near me?”

“I ain’t up here t’look at you, don’t flatter yerself, darlin’. M’up here t’check out the scene, I’m feelin’ flirty an’ it helps me focus on my work to flirt it up a lil bit b’fore I do my _thang.”_ You roll your eyes at that last part, “Aww don’t look at me like that, sugar. I don’t flirt with angry bottoms or other tops. An’ from the looks a’you? Angry bottom for fuckin’ sure.”

You tastefully ignore that comment and focus on your work. It’s almost over, it’s already been over fifty minutes. Rose should be here any time now, if Cupid’s estimated time of arrival is anything to go off of. Your shift will be over when she gets here, but you _think_ you’ll find some sort of excuse or reason that you have to stay behind. Not to keep an eye on Cupid or anything, but it’s to keep an eye on Cupid and make sure he doesn’t try any shit with the rest of the customers.

Speaking of the Devil, Cupid slaps the counter with his hand and announces that there isn’t anyone interesting enough for him at the cafe right now. He turns and dutifully returns to his laptop. Good fucking riddance, you say. You’re thankful to be getting this creep out of your fucking cafe soon so you can leave.

Dave gets up and starts packing his things, chattering with Kanaya as he does and you see Cupid bounce his leg nervously. Dave stops for a second, staring intensely at Kanaya, and Cupid keeps bouncing his leg, faster and faster. Is he… using magic… on Dave? Oh hell to the fucking _NO._

He’s flirted up the restaurant, threatened you _more than once,_ swore to murder you and anyone who gets in his way, and he’s made it damn clear that he doesn’t care about anyone but himself. But you _refuse_ to sit idly by and let him fuck with Dave. You clench your teeth and decide to use his stupid fucking powers against him. If he can _really_ read your emotions and your mind, then he’s going to _love_ this thought of yours.

“Who the fuck…” he lifts his head, tapping his leg even faster now. He looks over at you, Dave shakes his head slightly. You hear him make a quick apology to Kanaya and they continue their conversation. Cupid looks you over, eyes narrowing and eyebrows lifting slightly, and you feel your blood run cold. He’s going to fucking murder you for real. You’re goddamn doomed.

At least, you _think_ you are until the door jangles open. Rose steps in, a swath of flowing skirts and scarves. Ever dressed like a free-spirit, only the darker goth version of one. Cupid glares daggers into your very soul and you feel horrified. He’s _really_ trying to get you to back off, you can feel that much intent from him.

But you’re not one to give up so easily. You _refuse_ to sit back and let him fuck with anyone you love. You don’t care if you get hurt in the process, as long as the people you care about are safe, that’s all that matters.Cupid seems to hear this thought because he grins again, as if he’s a proud warrior who sees that his opponent is as strong, if not stronger, than them.

“A challenge, huh?” he whispers just loud enough for only you to hear. He stands then, breathing deeply, he sticks his arm out and pulls it back, as if he’s using a bow and arrow. You’re about to ask him what his deal is when you feel your eyes pull away from him.

All of the fire in your soul suddenly dies out and you forget why you were here in the first place, or even who you are or what your reason is for being alive. What were you so upset about again? And why do you feel so empty and cold? There’s nothing but an aching feeling of absence running through your veins. An icy wave of frost-bitten apathy courses through your veins. It _stings_ like cold regret and you feel every happy thought decay in your brain, as though they were never there in the first place. Without happy thoughts, what even are you but a massive waste of space? You don’t need to be alive. You should just disappear, it’d be bet-

Your thoughts snap like a stick under the weight of a freight train. What the _fuck_ just happened to you? You just felt emptier than you’ve felt in years, even when you were going through that depression before your dad moved your family up to Chicago. Your heart aches and you feel like someone just grabbed it and slammed it into the dirt, stepping on it once it hit the ground.

Cupid smiles happily, looking over at Rose and Kanaya, standing less than two feet away from each other. They’re staring at one another, eyes locked and you can tell that _something_ is off between the two of them. Then, as quick as you notice, they both seem to be under some sort of trance because they crash into each other, lips locking in a passionate embrace.

Dave lifts an eyebrow and wolf-whistles at Rose. “Rad, y’all finally decided to stop fuckin’ ‘round and kiss each other.” _Cupid did this. You just know it somehow._

He probably also fucked with your emotions, you’ve picked up on his magic well enough to know he’s an empath or some fucked up shit like that. You are _not_ okay with this- this son of a _bitch_ running around, fucking with other people like this. It’s _wrong_ and you _refuse_ to stand around and let him flirt his way into whatever he wants and then just mess with people’s emotions like children’s toys. You step forward before you know what you’re doing and your hands fly up in front of you, grabbing onto his shirt.

“What the _fuck_ do you think you’re doing, Karkat?” He says, but somehow you get the feeling he _knew_ you were going to do this because he doesn’t seem the _least_ bit surprised. A wave of calm emotion powers through you but you’re so angry that you’re not willing to let this go. You won’t let him manipulate you or worm his way out of this. If he wants to fuck with the people you love, he has to go through you first.

“Something you should know about me is that I do _not_ just let people fuck with people I care about, _asshole.”_ You hiss the last part between your teeth and he rolls his eyes as though you’re a pesky fly in his face. Another wave of calm washes over you, lulling you into a sense of security and safety but you ignore it again. There’s more important things to worry about.

“Y’got it wrong, Karkat. I’m not doing any of that.” He says and his eyes seem to glow with light as wave after wave of calm feelings crash into your very being. “I don’t want to fight you, relax. Please. I don’t want to fight anyone if I don’t have to.”

You grip onto him tighter, pulling his shirt forward and yanking him away from your friends. Dave looks over at you for a moment before he turn away, you assume he’s using his fucking powers _again_ to make everyone leave the two of you alone. It only serves to enrage you further, the angry feeling in your stomach bubbles up farther and adrenaline pumps through your veins.

“You want to fight me so fucking badly? _Fine._ But I’m gonna make your little ass fucking regret it, you understand me? This is your final fucking warning. Put up or shut up.” He shoves you back and readies his arms again, like he did before your emotions ran cold.

You watch in near abject horror as his heart seems to glow, a fucking _bow_ appears in his hands and you double take at the sheer fucking size of it. It’s as tall as him and you’re about the same height. The carvings on it are heart-shaped holes that bore the whole way through it. Inlaid oak wood panels cover the parts that aren’t hollow and the bowstring is a massive, thick vine, woven with small and seemingly freshly bloomed flowers.

“What the fuck _are_ you?” You ask and take a step back, you are going to _die,_ you just know it.

“I already fucking told you. I’m Cupid, bitch.” And suddenly, you’re slammed in the side of your head with the wood of the bow.

You stagger backward, grabbing the side of your head. He fucking _smashed_ you with it instead of shooting you. At least that means he _really_ doesn't want to kill you, he just wants to neutralize you so you'll fuck off. You're not going down without a fucking fight.

"Back away, Karkat! **NOW!** I warned you once, I'm not going to give you another!" He seems to get larger, or perhaps you're getting smaller. Either way, he feels fucking impossible to fight but you've never let impossibility stop you before and you're not about to start.

"NO! Leave my fucking friends alone!" You yell, steadying your feet. You do _not_ have a weapon to match that and, as of now, he feels impossible to land a hit on.

"Go. Sit. Down." His eyes _burn_ with green fire and it makes you stop for a moment, but you will the feeling of enslavement away. "Get away from me _or else."_

"Not unless you promise to leave Dave alone!" You run forward, fist flying for his face. You're going to get at _least_ one hit on him while he's distracted with his bow. Or at least, that was the plan before it evaporates instantly and he catches your fist in his hands. He gives you a squeeze and you feel the bones in your hand crunching together, threatening to break under the pressure.

"I'm not fucking with Dave, I'm just giving everyone a wave of apathy. Just because it set you back to your emotionally blank slate of wanting to die doesn't mean that it worked like that for him." He explains, tossing your fist back at you. The utter force of it nearly knocks you onto your ass but you manage to catch yourself before you fall.

"What are you fucking talking about? 'Emotional blank slate'?"

"Yes, Karkat. You and I both know you're hollow inside and everything you have covering that can be torn away by someone with mitigation powers like me. I know who you _really_ are inside." He lifts his hand and you feel your willpower fall away a little more. "You don't have to do this. I don't want to hurt you. Let me help you, I can fill up that empty feeling if you'll just-"

You cut him off. He wants to _help_ you? That's fucking laughable. "NO FUCKING WAY! No more powers, no more manipulation, no more servitude, no more obeying. No. Fucking. _More."_

You feel your feet still and you watch as yet again, his bow appears in his hands. “Well. I tried, didn’t I?” He shrugs some and you will yourself to move forward but your legs don’t fucking _work._ “This is gonna hurt you a lot worse than it’s gonna hurt me, chickpea. But don’t worry, it _probably_ won’t kill you. Not with that strong will you’ve got there. But like I said, _probably._ Assuming you don’t shit your fucking pants in fear and drop your act too soon.”

He readies his bow again, reaching back behind his head. You hear the sound of wood and metal clicking together and he draws an arrow that’s nearly as big as the bow itself. Long, green, and glowing with energy, he aims it directly at your stomach. You close your eyes and say your quiet goodbyes. You guess this is how you die. Well… at least you got to see Dave before you died.

What even was the last thing you said to him? Should you have just stopped being afraid and told him how you felt about him today like you physched yourself up to do? You told yourself that it’s been a year and you were ready to but you were too afraid once you actually _saw_ him to say anything.

“You’ll get another chance, I’m sure.” Cupid assures you, pulling back his arm. His fingers meet his cheek and he winks at you. “Sorry ‘bout this, homie.” And then, your stomach is filled with a sharp arrow and your world goes blank.

* * *

 

There’s music from somewhere, a calm and rhythmic thumping. Lyrics fill your head and your line of sight blurs, filled with visions of jungle palms swaying to the beat of the music. It takes you awhile, but you start to understand what they’re saying and even comprehend that they’re in English.

 

[ _Honey honey, don’t you cry_ ](https://open.spotify.com/track/09ml9rVHNtfvr6jJZPrcPX?si=bSzJ51XcSaqsMVp7J0hgbg)  
[ _It’s a ruse_ ](https://open.spotify.com/track/09ml9rVHNtfvr6jJZPrcPX?si=bSzJ51XcSaqsMVp7J0hgbg)  
[ _All these creatures are a lie_ ](https://open.spotify.com/track/09ml9rVHNtfvr6jJZPrcPX?si=bSzJ51XcSaqsMVp7J0hgbg)  
[ _Funny bunny, it’s alright_ ](https://open.spotify.com/track/09ml9rVHNtfvr6jJZPrcPX?si=bSzJ51XcSaqsMVp7J0hgbg)  
[ _I clap my hands_ ](https://open.spotify.com/track/09ml9rVHNtfvr6jJZPrcPX?si=bSzJ51XcSaqsMVp7J0hgbg)  
[ _And they’re gone into the night_ ](https://open.spotify.com/track/09ml9rVHNtfvr6jJZPrcPX?si=bSzJ51XcSaqsMVp7J0hgbg)

 

Someone shakes you and you slap their hand away, your fucking _stomach_ hurts and the last thing you want is for someone to touch you. You feel like you just got shot or stabbed or at the _very_ least, like you got punched really fucking hard. Plus, waking up with the sound of music and drums beaten in your ears is ridiculously calming. You just want to sleep and sleep for hours, not be woken up by some rude fuck.

They persist, speaking this time, “Hey, are you alright?” Your head swims and so does your vision but you manage to shove the waves of sleepy energy away. As you do though, the pulse of the music fades into the back of your mind.

“Ugh… what-” You sit up too quickly and nearly vomit on the floor, but you’re handed a full bottle of water. Your shaking hands try to uncap it only to find it’s already been opened for you, thank god. You drink it quickly and it eases the sick, twisting pain in your stomach, but just barely.

“You hit the floor pretty goddamn hard, Karkat.” The voice is more familiar, you recognize it as Dave through the sleepy haze clouding your mind. “If you need a minute, ain’t nobody gonna blame you.” His hand touches to your forehead and you feel your blood rushing to your face immediately. You don’t _want_ to slap him away but you do because you _don’t_ need to be blushing right now.

“I’m alright, just- can you explain what the fuck happened?” You sip at the water slowly and the feeling in your stomach eases some more.

“Someone broke into the place, tried to rob the cafe. You fought the guy real good but he fuckin’ punched you straight in the stomach and booked it.” He gestures toward your stomach and your hands pull up your work shirt, revealing a _massive_ heart-shaped bruise. It’s all purple and ugly looking, but at least you’re alive.

“We thought you got stabbed and- I- I freaked out and I dove to catch you before you hit the floor and that probably made it worse. I’m so fucking sorry.” He bites his knuckle and sucks in a strained breath. “Can- Can you stand?”

“I don’t know, let me just-” You go to ease yourself off of the floor and your vision blurs again, but Dave catches you. His arms wrap around your shoulders and your head presses to his heart. It thumps rhythmically but pretty goddamn quickly, so you _know_ he’s really fucking worried about you.

“Easy, Karkat. I got you.” He assures you, speaking in the softest tone of voice you’ve ever heard him speak in. It’s really goddamn soothing and you feel yourself relax instantly. But you _do_ have to get to your feet eventually so you try to stand again. With Dave’s arms supporting you, you get to your feet.

“Did you catch the guy?” You ask, holding your hand to the side of your head. It feels like someone slapped you with a plank of wood and you can already feel the swelling starting on your temple.

“No, he got away.” Dave frowns and looks you over. “Who cares? Are _you_ okay? Can you see me? What day is it? Who’s the president?”

You roll your eyes, he’s _obviously_ trying to see if you have a concussion or something, it’s kind of nice though. “It’s Friday. June 26th, 2015. The president is Barack Obama and, to answer your question, I’m fine but my head fucking _hurts_ like a bitch.”

He cringes, sucking a nervous breath between his teeth. “Yeahhhh, that… uh, that’d be my fault. I dropped you when I caught you and you hit the side of your head on the floor. I’m so fucking sorry.”

You shake your head, that doesn’t sound right. You can _swear_ you got hit in the head by something when you were still standing. And you _swear_ you weren’t punched but shot or stabbed or _something_ worse than a punch. You’ve _been_ punched in the stomach before and it didn’t hurt this much. And it _surely_ didn’t leave a fucking heart-shaped bruise on you. Something isn’t right here and you’re pissed off that you can’t seem to remember it and that everyone else remembers something totally different.

“It’s alright, Dave. You- you were doing your best and I’m _not_ mad at you.” You assure him, grabbing onto his shoulder. His lip wobbles slightly and you feel your heart ache for him. So, instead of sitting idly by and letting him hurt for you, you embrace him.

 _Shit_ , he’s so nice to hug. He’s a little shorter than you, but what he lacks in height, you think, he makes up for in huggability. Because _my god,_ you could do this forever. His arms hesitate and you feel them do so but he wraps back around you after a moment. Rose “aww’s” at him and tilts her head to the left.

“Hugs from _homies,_ right, Dave?” She says in a slightly accusatory tone and coughs. He backs up and you nearly hiss at her for scaring him off but you decide that being on her bad side is a bad idea. You heard she worships some really fucked up gods and you don’t want to be on the bad end of any of that. Especially not if she’s as _gifted_ as she claims to be and you do _not_ want to test that theory.

 _“Homies._ Yeah, we’re… we’re homies, right, Kat?” He takes a step back and runs his hand through his hair nervously. What’s got him all worked up?

“Of course we are, Dave. We’re friends. _Fucking obviously,_ since I let you actually _touch_ me.” You roll your eyes at him and punch him slightly in the arm. “What fucking time is it anyway?”

“Time for you to head home, I assume. The cafe closed early because of your accident. Look around you.” Rose says and gestures at the empty cafe. The only people here are you, Dave, Kanaya, and the barista who was working with you on your shift tonight.

“Oh… I guess that means I have to lock up?” You huff, a little annoyed. But it’s fine, you like locking up. It means you get to play your music through the _amazing_ sound system that the owners have installed. “You can all head out, I’ll close up.”

“Are you sure you want to be alone after that?” Kanaya asks, stepping forward to stop you but you won’t have it.

“It’s really fine, Kanaya. I promise. Nobody is going to come in here and hurt me. I have a fucking gun under the cash register. I just- I guess I didn’t have time to grab it or something.” You sigh, a defeated sound. You’re pissed off that someone got the best of you but it’s fine. You’ll get over it eventually but not without having to nurse your wounded pride.

“Alright, if you insist, then we will not press on the matter.” Rose huffs and grabs Dave’s arm with one hand and Kanaya’s with the other. “Come on, let’s get out of here so he can clean up.”

“Hey, I uh… I feel real bad about all that.” Dave looks at you and hands you a slip of paper, “Here’s my number. Text me sometime and I’ll take you out for an apology dinner or something, yeah?”

“Yeah, I’d like that.” You smile warmly at him and wave as he gets lead off by Rose and into the late-afternoon light. Well… you _guess_ it’s time to get cleanup started. No time like the fucking present.

“Hey, I already took care of clean up while you were out. I’m gonna head out, can you lock up after I leave?” Your coworker, you never _did_ catch her name, says to you. You nod and she grins. “Great, I’ve got a date I’m a little late for but I also didn’t wanna leave you with work so… Thanks.” She grabs her bag from under the register where you store everything and quickly dashes out of the door, making a run for her car.

Well, _now_ you get to be alone. But it’s fine, you’ll just lock up and head straight home and relax in bed for the night. You head over to the register and grab the key for the door, heading over to it and locking it from the inside. It’s an older lock, sure, but at least you can lock it and still open it from inside. But once you’re out, you’re locked out so you’d better go make sure you have everything you need.

You gather the essentials; phone, keys, wallet, work bag, and you even take the time to make yourself a cup of tea before you leave. You do a basic chamomile with a tiny sprinkle of sugar. That’ll help you get to sleep easier tonight because you just _know_ you’re going to have trouble falling asleep with this pain thumping in your skull. Plus, now you’re curious about that song you were hearing when you woke up. You’ll have to Google the lyrics once you’re at your laptop.

After your tea is all done and brewed though, you hang the key back up on the wall behind the counter and double-check for your stuff. You _definitely_ have everything so you allow yourself to leave finally. The door swings open, bell jangling loudly with the effort of it. As you turn to make sure the door closed all the way, you head the sound of a cord being pulled tightly and wood creaking.

“Sorry ‘bout this but you know, I _think_ you’ll thank me in the end, Karkat.” Your stomach drops but before you can turn around, a bright light pierces through your stomach. Only... this time you don’t pass out or feel any pain. Instead, you feel a wash of many _many_ emotions pour over you in a thick, syrup and your own emotions amplify times what feels like _one million._

It’s almost too fucking much and you start to feel pity for your attacker. For Cupid, you realize. Because you understand that this is what he feels every fucking day of his life. This overwhelming amount of every fucking emotion at once in massively intense waves that pulse through you in rhythmic beats. It… weirdly enough, it makes you want to listen to music.

“What… what is this… what did you just _do_ to me?” You _demand_ answers. There’s no fucking _reason_ for this feeling. There’s no fucking _reason_ you should have to _FEEL HIS EMOTIONS FOR HIM._

“Trust me, baby. This is only a small fraction of what I feel every single day. I’m taking it easy on you because I care. I _should NOT_ care but I care. Plus, someone I know would be _awful_ fuckin’ mad if he heard that I murdered a human. Stupid fuckin’ God of Prose. He’s _so_ fuckin’ convincing though so that’s the only reason you ain’t dead.” He pauses, “Plus… y’know, don’t be telling nobody but I’m kinda _soft_ for people. Who expected the god of love to have so much compassion? Not me, that’s who.”

“Why!? What the fuck should I have to do your job for?”

“You’ve got a job and forty arrows. Each one has a riddle. Once you’re all done, you’ve paid me back for making me waste a really fucking expensive and hard to forge arrow. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say your willpower is pretty goddamn godly. You sure you ain’t the son of a god or something? Cuz _damn,_ baby, I had to inject you with calm directly to your stomach to keep you from killing yourself by trying to fight me.”

“Why are you-”

“Just deal with the consequences of your actions, chickadee. I’ll see you in a few years. You’d better answer your phone when I call. I like to know how my riddles went and if the puzzles worked out the way I planned them. I’ll explain more later, I _really_ gotta get going. I’m late for dinner and they don’t take too kindly to me not eatin’ when I’m supposed to, y’know?”

You turn around to face him but he’s gone. A quiver full of arrows and a note attached to it is all that remains. You sigh and take the note off, untying the pink ribbon used to keep it all tight and nice for you. A wave of warmth washes over you and you feel your heart begin to fill with an unfamiliar sensation. It’s an almost childlike sense of wonderment and fulfillment. You haven’t felt this okay in years. You’re really goddamn curious what kind of fucking spell this is. You get the feeling it’s going to be explained in the letter so you unroll it and read it to yourself.

 

_Karkat,_

_If you’re reading this, it means I just fucked off to dinner with the God of Prose. Don’t worry, you aren’t alone anymore. The ribbon you just untied should have filled you with a warm feeling when you untied it. You’re not empty anymore. Consider that my gift to you. Pair these forty lovers and you’ll be free to do that which you please. I promise to always call on time so expect your phone to be going off at this time, every few Fridays from now on. And here’s your warning ahead of time, I like to ramble. I look forward to working with you, my dude._

_Cupid <3 _

**Author's Note:**

> [Join my server, Karkat Thirst! I live-write fics there! (16+)](https://discord.gg/g5hq6Th)
> 
>  
> 
> The songs mentioned in this fic are _Pools_ by Glass Animals which you can listen to [here](https://open.spotify.com/track/0pQjNxCnSkcIOzdJtI8DBR?si=48iZnLCrRRm-bjse9ZxYrA) and _Walla Walla_ by Glass Animals which you can listen to [here.](https://open.spotify.com/track/09ml9rVHNtfvr6jJZPrcPX?si=bSzJ51XcSaqsMVp7J0hgbg)


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